


fake

by naktoms



Category: Daenamhyup | DNH, Just Music Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, its not a giriron fic unless it contains the word fuck at least 15 times, rated for language thats it thats literally it, this is just one huge fuckign meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naktoms/pseuds/naktoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unfortunate events lead to the downfall of a carefully crafted wall. Except in a much less dramatic manner than it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fake

**Author's Note:**

> look at that shit i finally wrote an actual real literal giriron fic  
> like the other ones have been those snippet-drabble things that i can whip up in an hour but this... this. i started this in april and finished it today. imagine that   
> ANYWAY. kudos + comments are appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!!

Okay. So Siyoung’s seen some weird things in his year and a half in college. Particularly noteworthy is the dude that wears a chicken suit every Friday, that one girl that has a mohawk about as tall as she is, and that one time Siyoung witnessed his past roommate fucking a pineapple. Despite all this, Siyoung’s not 100% sure that he was ready to walk into vending and see a leather-clad man whispering sweet nothings to the vending machine.

“Please,” the guy’s whispering, face pressed up against the glass. “I need that money, please, please fucking _give it back_.”

“It’s not going to,” Siyoung comments, walking closer, and the guy nearly fucking dies, stumbling off to the side and clutching his chest.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, god.” The guy rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling. “I put in the right amount of money, then pressed the right numbers for my bag of chips, but it hasn’t given me the chips and it isn’t giving me my money back. I’m _stressed_.”

Siyoung pockets his phone, walking to the vending machine and peering at the display. It says that the right amount of money’s in the machine, so there’s only one explanation for this. “Well. It doesn’t like you.”

“What do you meaaaan,” the dude whines, looking completely dejected. “I just wanted a bag of chips, I don’t have the money for actual dinner.”

“I do, probably.” Siyoung says offhandedly, waggling his eyebrows, and he grins when the other guy’s face lights up. He’s not bad looking, maybe this is a good idea. Maybe. “What’s your name?”

“Hunchul!” The guy says brightly, grinning, and Siyoung feels some sort of alien pain in his chest. Ah, god. It’s the satanic beast trying to wiggle its way to the surface. The satanic beast being affection, of course. Jesus.

“Alright, Hunchul, where do you want to eat?” Siyoung asks, gesturing for Hunchul to walk with him. “If the vending machine decides to work, that just means someone’s getting a free bag of chips. Let it go. Let someone else enjoy themselves.”

Hunchul nods, pouting at the vending machine for a few moments before following Siyoung out of vending. Truthfully, Siyoung only really has the money for himself, and paying for two will mean Siyoung’s deprived of whatever he wanted to eat tomorrow. He was aiming for pizza. Being a precious angel with a heart of gold has its downsides, apparently.

Hunchul suggests, with a stupid smile and a dumb blush on his face, that they go to the deli downstairs. Now, Siyoung fucking loves that deli, but his wallet does not. This pains him.

But, Hunchul seems the type that can’t really think when put on the spot, judging by how long it took him to come up with that. He’s cute enough that Siyoung doesn’t really mind.

It’s clear by the end of their impromptu lunch that Hunchul is also the type to not let go of a stranger when they show him some random kindness, which also drives home the fact that being an angel really does have its downsides. Siyoung isn’t interested in friends that won’t give him test answers, and Hunchul really doesn’t look the sort to do that.

“Hey, uh,” Hunchul starts shyly before Siyoung can escape from the deli. “Do you, uh, do you want to trade numbers? In case the vending machine steals my money again.”

“Do you seriously not have any friends who can come save your ass from the shitty vending machine?” Siyoung asks, making an effort to sound horribly put upon even though he does take his phone out of his pocket.

“None who the vending machine has no also terrorized,” Hunchul replies somberly, shaking his head. “Once, Ikje figured that he could get it to work if he just kept putting more money in it. He wasted three dollars on it before it spit out chips that he didn’t even want.”

“You take what you can get in this economy,” Siyoung says, hitting the New Contact button. “Here.” Siyoung hands the phone over, not in the mood to listen to numbers.

Hunchul dutifully types in his number, then hands the phone back after a few moments. “Only five contacts?” Hunchul asks.

“Look, fuck off. Those are my free cards, the ones that cover my ass when I’m absent or in trouble.” Siyoung sniffs, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Come on, fork your phone over.”

“Oh, right!” Hunchul does so after pulling up the contact page, giving it to Siyoung. Siyoung is a little wounded to find that Hunchul has thirty-two contacts, another reminder that Siyoung’s social life has been dead since middle school.

SIyoung labels the contact as “your goddamn savior” and hands the phone back. “There. Expect me to text you asking for your math notes sooner or later.”

“We’ll both be shit out of luck if you do that, because I’m damn near failing math.” Hunchul says, matching Siyoung in aloofness. “Join my study group and we can damn near fail together.”

“Maybe I fuckin’ will,” Siyoung says, turning his nose up.

Hunchul sticks his tongue out at him and leaves with a wave, and Siyoung lingers to stare at the tile and come to terms with the fact that he just made a friend.

Siyoung fails his math test and joins the goddamn study group.

His roommate, Hyunseung, was the one who started it and tends to randomly mention it in the hopes that Siyoung will join. This time Siyoung takes him up on it.

“I… really?” Hyunseung replies in disbelief. “You- really?”

“Yes, really, now stop gawking.” Siyoung says, almost embarrassed. Joining a study group means admitting defeat, means admitting that calculus has kicked his ass. “It’s… socialization.”

“That’s even harder to believe than you wanting to pass math this year.” Hyunseung informs. Siyoung regrets this already. “But, whatever.”

Whatever, indeed.

The study group meets in the courtyard every Saturday, except on days when it’s cold or there’s some sort of god-awful precipitation occurring, on which occasions they move to the library. This Saturday, the sun is shining brightly and there’s nothing but a slight breeze, so Siyoung packs his shit over to the nearest empty bench and lets his bookbag fall on the metal with a dull clang.

Hyunseung is the first to look up. “Ah, hey Siyoung. We’re going over supposed midterm material.”

Siyoung nods, scanning the faces around him when he sits. He recognizes some as his fellow 50-percent-and-belows from the math test, a couple girls whose boyfriends he knows somewhat, and fucking Hunchul.

Somehow, Siyoung thought Hunchul was joking when he said something about the study group, but no, here he is, in all his black leather ripped pants hot as sin glory. Siyoung is mad and almost drops his math textbook as a result.

Siyoung doesn’t think he really learns anything, at least not this time, but he forces himself to keep his eyes on his textbook when a shadow is cast over him. “You’re too fucking tall,” he says eventually, looking up at Hunchul.

Hunchul smiles. “Sorry for my fabulous genes. Did you do shitty on the math test? I did too.”

“Ah, yes. 32 and I needed at least a 98 to ensure that I’d pass the class.” Siyoung shrugs, an attempt at indifference. “Who gives a shit. Okay, no, I kind of do.”

Hunchul laughs. “Me too. I wish I gave less of a shit.”

Siyoung keeps looking at him, gaze even, before he says, “You look less hot from this angle, too much nostril.”

Hunchul laughs again, more genuine this time, then takes a step back so he can crouch in front of Siyoung. “Better?”

It is better, and it makes Siyoung mad. “Yeah. Is it too early in our friendship for me to call you a bitch?”

“Nah.”

“Okay. Ahem. Yeah, bitch.”

Hunchul grins. “Can I call you a hoe?”

“Hell yeah.”

“So,” Siyoung says to get Hunchul’s attention off of his beloved sandwich.

“So?” Hunchul repeats with his mouth full.

“You’re a pretty cool guy,” Siyoung continues, resting his chin in his hand. “No… felonies? Not a registered sex offender, right?”

“Uh, no…? Why?”

Siyoung lays his hands flat on the table, fixing Hunchul with a serious, stern gaze. “My parents are coming to visit me this weekend and I have two days to convince them that sending me to college was worth it. I’m a B-C average right now so that’s not exactly going to impress them, and my current group of friends consists of… fruit fuckers. So.” Siyoung inhales, pointing to Hunchul as Hunchul takes another bite of his sandwich. “You’re going to be my boyfriend.”

Hunchul chokes. “What the fuck,” he deadpans once he’s gotten the bite down. “Isn’t- Isn’t being gay kind of worse to parents than having shitty grades?”

“They’ve had five years to come to terms with that, they were not expecting for me to have the next Angelina Jolie on my arm.” Siyoung says, shifting to lean back in his chair. “It’s just for a couple days. And you only have to do it once, I bet every penny I have on me right now that they aren’t coming back until graduation. And I can just say we broke up.”

Hunchul pauses to consider it before nodding thoughtfully, finishing his sandwich off in one go. “Okay,” Hunchul says then, muffled around the excess of bread in his mouth. “Did you really not have anyone else to do this?”

“Okay, let’s examine my friends.” Siyoung readies his hands to begin ticking off people. “My roommate, Jang Hyunseung, practically engaged to his girlfriend at this point. Hyuna would probably fucking roast me alive if I made Hyunseung do that. Potentially my main friend, Kim Daewoong, and ex-roommate. He is the fruit fucker. I’m not dating him, fake or otherwise. Our lovely Moon Jihoon is too busy with whatever the fuck he does all day to even go out for drinks, so whatever. And then… uh… I actually don’t have anyone else. Nobody important enough to list.”

“You are truly making the wisest decision,” Hunchul replies, taking a long drink of his soda. “What am I, uh, expected to do?”

“Dress nicely,” Siyoung says, nodding. “That’s more for me than for my parents, though, they’ve gotten used to their slob of a son. Uh… refrain from smelling like smoke, I’m the only one in this relationship that can smell like an ashtray. I dunno, hold my hand? What the fuck do couples do.”

“I guess we have to think ‘appropriate’, I mean, these are your parents after all. Uh, wait.” Hunchul pushes his drink over to Siyoung. “Sharing shit. Take a drink.”

Siyoung shrugs, sipping the soda and then making a face. “God, fucking Pepsi. No wonder the vending machines don’t like you.”

Hunchul sticks his tongue out, taking his drink back. “You’re too fuckin’ mean to me to be my boyfriend, leave me alone. Let my ass live.”

“Nah, bitch.”

Hunchul ignores him. “Also, uh… pet names? God, I think I’ve seen Hyunseung with his girlfriend before, they speak entirely in nicknames.”

Siyoung cringes. “Please, no gross ones. I’ll kill you.”

Hunchul reaches over and takes one of Siyoung’s hands in his, saying in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, “Honeybun!”

Siyoung curls his lip and snatches his hand away, leaving Hunchul to laugh to himself. “Not that one. Something like… dear. Darling. Or just… plain honey.”

“Alright, plain honey.” Hunchul says. Siyoung rolls his eyes.

So, Operation Impress The ‘Rents is a go.

Siyoung’s mom pinches his cheeks and coos at him and tells him he looks shit with blonde hair. Siyoung ignores it in favor of flaunting his ‘pride and joy’ right off the bat.

“What, your computer?” His dad says, not missing a beat.

“No, my boyfriend.”

His parents are left in deadened silence.

“Oh,” His mom says first.

“Is he… nice…?” His dad tries.

So, Siyoung launches into some carefully fabricated bullshit about how lovely Hunchul is, trying to make it just gross enough that his parents will take it seriously. It’s no good to remain aloof and assholeish when you’re supposedly talking about the love of your life.

And, thus, Siyoung is required to invite Hunchul out for dinner with him and the ‘rents and Hunchul is contractually obligated to say yes.

Siyoung is, honestly, somewhat nervous. He sure as hell didn’t bother dressing nice, but a load is definitely brushed off his shoulders when Hunchul turns up in sleek black and leather, hair parted nicely and a smile on his face.

He sees the awe cross his mother’s face when Hunchul bows to them and Siyoung knows that the Operation can be labeled a Success.

That is, until Hunchul keeps holding his hand under the table even when Siyoung’s parents are absent, disappeared to the bathroom.

“You don’t have to, y’know,” Siyoung says, raising their hands slightly for emphasis.

“I know. Am I not allowed to?”

Siyoung takes some time to think, staring at Hunchul’s fingers, at little scabs lining his knuckles. Then he sighs. “Fine. But what’s all that on your fingers for?”

Hunchul turns their hands so he can see his own fingers better, then laughs. “I, uh, I chew on my fingers a lot. When I’m nervous, or bored, or stressed. Those are all fresh.”

This information seems oddly personal, like it’s a habit Hunchul is ashamed of. Siyoung realizes belatedly that this means Hunchul was probably nervous about fake-boyfriending it up tonight and it strikes him as terribly cute. This makes him angry.

Hunchul manages to thoroughly impress Siyoung’s parents with talk of his future career in music and his accomplishments and some lovely anecdotes about his college life. His parents head back to their hotel with assurances that Siyoung’s allowance will still be coming to his bank account and that he will have tuition for the last two years of college.

“You’re the fuckin’ best,” Siyoung says as Hunchul walks him back to his dorm, told to make sure Siyoung gets back safe by Siyoung’s mom.

“I try my best.” Hunchul replies, smiling. He goes for Siyoung’s hand and Siyoung lets him have it, nobody around that could potentially tease Siyoung for holding someone’s hand. “So, do we fake-kiss or not?”

“That’s gay.”

“Of course it’s gay.”

“Awfully smooth for a loser like you,” Siyoung says nonchalantly, swinging their hands slightly. “Sure, fake-kiss me.”

Hunchul stops and turns to Siyoung, then puts his hand over Siyoung’s mouth and kisses the back of it. “There, fake-kiss.”

“You fucking ass,” Siyoung says, shoving Hunchul’s shoulder. Hunchul hops away and giggles, eyes crinkling up. “God, I hate you.”

“Now, now, we’ve only been friends for a couple months, not enough to hate me yet.” Hunchul says, wagging his finger. Siyoung reaches over and grabs it, twisting just enough to hurt. “Hey, hey, hoe. Fucking. Stop.”

“Fine, bitch.” Siyoung says, walking the extra few steps to the door of his dorm and digging his keys out. “But you owe me a real kiss, asshole.”

“Oh, really?” Hunchul asks, teasing. “Alrighty.”

Siyoung unlocks the door, then pauses. “Thanks, by the way. You’re a damn good fake-boyfriend.”

“I’m a damn good real boyfriend too!” Hunchul says proudly. Siyoung twists the doorknob and steps inside, thankful for once that Hyunseung isn’t here to question him.

Unfortunately, the news catches up with Hyunseung.

“What’s this about you forcing Hunchul to cover your ass?” Hyunseung asks, flopping down on Siyoung’s bed and causing both of them to bounce.

“There’s been several instances of that in the past couple weeks,” Siyoung replies plainly. “You gotta be more specific.”

“I’ve heard that he secured your future finances. Good job.”

“He did it willingly, it’s not like I held him at knifepoint.” Siyoung says. Hyunseung smiles.

“Alright, okay. So how long until this turns into me coming home to you two fucking on the floor?”

“When has anything ever turned into that,” Siyoung deadpans. Hyunseung raises an eyebrow. “Wait, okay, no. That was one damn time- one time!”

“It was twice, actually, and I never learned either of their names.” Hyunseung shrugs. “I guess we’re already off to a good start, I’ve known Hunchul for a year. Feel free to fuck. Just not on my bed.”

Siyoung scowls and Hyunseung cackles, returning to his own bed. “You’re a bitch, Hyunseung, I hate you.”

“If you want, I can wingman you. Put in what little good word you deserve.”

“Thanks, fucker.”

They are back where they started, except this time it’s Siyoung whispering sweet nothings to the vending machine.

“I’m so fuckedddddd,” Siyoung whispers, fingers wiggling around in the coin return slot. There’s a coin shoved up there that he needs, but this is not the only reason that he’s fucked. “I’m gonna fuckin’ die, please, give me the coin.”

Then, Hunchul says from his left, “Guess it doesn’t like you either.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Siyoung says, turning his head so his cheek is pressed up against the glass. “Were you coming to fight the machine as well?”

“I, uh, I was actually looking for you,” Hunchul replies, shy. “I realized this morning that I still owe you a real kiss, right? Are you still holding that over my head like the hellish debtor that you are?”

“Hell fucking yeah I am.” Siyoung says, abandoning his mission of money retrieval. “How romantic, Hunchul, we’re going to kiss in the first place we met.”

“Romantic indeed,” Hunchul agrees, stepping forward. “Is there any particular way you want me to do this?”

“It gets less romantic when you start asking questions,” Siyoung complains, but he softens nonetheless when Hunchul takes his hands in his.  “This honestly pisses me off.”

“Why does it piss you off?”

“It reminds me of high school shit,” Siyoung says. “Believe it or not, I was a fucking mushy mess in high school. I just did a good job of hiding it with cigarettes and eyeliner.”

“What, like it’s not the same now?” Hunchul asks, and then he shuts the fuck up and kisses Siyoung. Siyoung can see the vending machine out of the corner of his eye which makes it even less romantic.

But, Hunchul holds Siyoung’s hands so tight that it almost hurts and he seems nervous, smile tight once he’s straightened. Siyoung inhales.

“Better real boyfriend, huh?” Siyoung asks, and sees the way that Hunchul’s mouth curves up genuinely. “If we’re going to kiss more, you better get good at it. That was shit.”

“Covering up your mushiness with more than just cigarettes and eyeliner. Foul mouths aren’t attractive.”

“If that’s the case, then you’re about as attractive as a lovingly-rendered elephant asshole.”

Hunchul nods. “True.”

Siyoung sighs. “Kiss me again.”

“Demanding. I like that in a man.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”


End file.
